Just Practicing
by Nell Belle
Summary: Broadway Musical universe! Meg Giry falls for one of the ballet's male dancers. Just a cute little piece of fluff! One-shot.


**A/N: This story started with a headcanon my friend and I came up with. I hope you like it! Please read and review! Thanks. :D**

"_With feasting and dancing and song, tonight in celebration we greet the victorious throng returning in salvation_!"

The chorus sang a great scene from Chalumeau's _Hannibal_, with the corps de ballet dancing in their costumes of red, green, and gold. Two best friends, Meg Giry and Christine Daaé, played some of the slave girls.

Meg had her eye on another dancer, though; his name was Pierre and was about twenty years old. He was born and raised in Paris and trained to become a danseur—a male ballerina—at a young age. He was playing the slave master. Pierre cracked his whip down on the stage and the girls moved together as a group. Meg, however, concentrated on Pierre.

"Christine," she whispered, her voice barely audible over that of La Carlotta's loud soprano voice. "Have you ever noticed Pierre?"

"He's not for me," Christine replied. She pirouetted and turned to face her friend as they did their dance. "I don't like the performing types. I still remember my childhood sweetheart…"

"I know, I know, Raoul de Changy. I get it, Christine." Meg went up _en pointe_ and found the other ballerina she was to dance with.

After the performance of the aria, Madame Giry, the ballet mistress and Meg's mother, came to oversee the ballet girls.

"Christine Daaé," she said sternly. "Focus more on your dancing and get your head out of the clouds." She moved down the line. "Meg Giry. My daughter, you were a _disgrace_!" She slammed her cane down on the floor. "Never have I seen you perform as atrociously as you did today! What has gotten into you?"

"N-nothing, Mother," Meg said timidly. "I guess I'm just feeling odd."

"Well, feel better." Madame Giry continued on down the line and criticized each girl.

Later that night, Meg snuck out of the dormitories to rehearse. When she found the dance studio, she opened the door just a crack and peered in…for someone was already there. It was a young man, pirouetting and jumping up, landing with graceful pliés.

_Pierre_, Meg thought. She had never actually seen him dance alone before. His technique amazed her. He was going to play the shepherd in the "Dance of the Country Nymphs" ballet, from Act III of _Il Muto_, and she could understand why!

Suddenly, after a wonderful spin, Pierre stopped and stared at the almost-open door. He could see a tiny bit of blonde hair and a wide blue eye watching him.

"_Mademoiselle_?" he said, walking toward the door.

Meg quickly backed away, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, _monsieur_, I really am…" she stammered softly.

He opened the door. "Meg Giry! You have much potential," he said.

"Oh, Pierre, I'm sorry to have spied on you. I didn't know you were there…"

"Come, Meg," he said, taking her hand. "We'll do the Dance of the Country Nymphs together!"

There was a shepherd's crook on the floor and a circlet of flowers on the floor, which they both took in their hands and began the dance. Meg and Pierre began to quietly hum the melody to which they would be dancing as she dropped her circlet around him. Suddenly, he grabbed her, the crook in one hand and Meg in the other, and picked her up. He spun around and smiled at her. Meg thought she might melt, right there in his arms, and then suddenly, he kissed her!

However, somebody else was watching. Christine.

Meg saw her out of the corner of her eye and immediately broke free from Pierre's grasp.

"Christine," she said. "What are you doing up?"

"I have a better question—what are _you _doing up, and what_ever_ are you doing with Pierre?"

"Just…practicing."

"I don't remember reading the part in the libretto where the shepherd kisses the country nymph," Christine said with a roll of her eyes.

Meg turned to face her male companion. "I'd better get back to the dormitories before Mother finds out…"

"Come on," Christine said, leading her friend away.

The blonde girl turned back to look at Pierre, who waved at her and smiled a gentle smile. She had fallen for the danseur!


End file.
